Just the three of us.

So, I'm packing up my scrapbooking supplies today for my monthly "Scrap Mania" tomorrow night - I know, I'm a craft geek. Really, I just like to buy all the scrap book stuff - papers/crimpers/die cutters/scissors/ribbons/glue dots and glue tabs - oh my! More on my SCRAP-BOOKING another time.

So, as I was packing everything up, I found this picture of me, Dave and Jerry from a few years back. Since this picture was taken "pre-digital," meaning before I forked over the money for a digital camera, I don't know exactly WHEN the picture was taken. On the back there is a date stamp of 12/05 on it, however, I think it was actually taken in September or October. I know it was the fall because of my outfit. I remember this outfit (it's still in my closet waiting for my ass to shrink) because I had KILLER tall boots that showed just enough leg below the skirt that you can't see. (Trust me on this one, I looked go-oood.)

Anyway, this has is one of my favorite pictures of the three of us (and it's not because it was shot while we were still sober) it's because we all looked FIERCE. (Seriously, we're a good looking trio here!) From left to right Jerry is looking so fresh faced that I just know he masked and moisturized the night before (with Clinique no less!) I, of course, have fabulous hair, (it really IS all about the hair product) and check out that plunging neckline - hello ladies! Dave looks so FABULOUS in his suit (you really should dress up more often.) And yes, Jerry I know you've got the Aveda product in the hair - it is perfect. You were the popular one that night!

And he was, too. After this picture was taken, the three of us headed to a charity event downtown. There was an open bar (or Dave paid - same thing) and Champagne. Not just ANY champagne, J. Roget (pronounced J Row-shhay!) There was also a strawberry tree - seriously it was a Styrofoam shaped tree with fresh strawberries on it. (Think Pretty Woman and the first night with Richard Gere scene.) What can I say? It was a fancy-sman-shy charity event. Once inside the event David promptly ditched us as he usually does because if there's alcohol involved it's going to get ugly with the two of us there.

A little back-story on me and Jerry goes something like this. We are good friends and get along great . . . until one of us has had too much to drink. Then it becomes every man (queen) for him/herself and we're fighting like Grace and Jack on "Will and Grace," because one of us isn't getting enough attention from Dave.

This is probably why Dave ditched us immediately upon entering the event. There were a lot of "big wigs" (woo-hoo the Mayor was there) and "more important people than me and Jerry" there, so off he went. It didn't matter to us, Jerry and I parked our FABULOUS asses next to the J. Roget and Strawberry tree and waited for people to notice us. Jerry of course was "chatty" with everyone and we entertained ourselves by talking to (and about ) everyone.

After picking the tree dry and downing about 2 or 10 glasses of champagne, I was summoned by Dave to join him for the charity auction that was about to begin. By then, Jerry was off being popular and talking to 'cute boys' so there was no getting him to join us. The champagne had clearly kicked in.

So the auction (show) begins with the host and some radio personality welcoming and thanking us for attending the event and that the bidding would begin. When I say "begin" I mean the host has a microphone, and, Jerry does not, so he decides that this is the perfect time to introduce HIMSELF to everyone. The hosts of the event tried to proceed with the auction, but there was no stopping Jerry. He is, after all, the Gay Katie Couric of Akron, and he'll tell you so too (like he told everyone that night.) Picture Harvey Fierstein, Jack McFarland from Will and Grace and Nathan Lane from Birdcage all rolled into one colorful package and you've got our dear friend Jerry.

And so the show goes on . . . the first item to be auctioned off that night was a lovely painting that the host proclaimed was just gorgeous and the bidding would start at $200. Then, out of nowhere, Jerry saunters up to the stage and grabs the painting out of their hands and says "It's $200 for the painting but not for me!" Talk about making an entrance. I couldn't help but giggle. A LOT. OUTLOUD. The rest of the audience, however, sat there in shock. I was immediately "hushed" by Dave as he tried to help the hosts gain control of Jerry and the show. Impossible - but fun to watch.

The auction went on, quickly I might add, and so did Katie (Jerry). After being yelled at by Dave he sat down with us, but not without comment, and then he was off again because he found someone (cute boys) more interesting than us to go chat with. The auction, and Jerry's performance, was quite fun and we (me) bid on a couple of things. Jerry even got in on the action (of course he did) and won himself a clay bowl/pot of some sort, and immediately announced -OUTLOUD - that he would put it on eBay as soon as he got home. That is, if he didn't break it because he kept dropping the bowl all over the place.

I won too (with Dave's money.) We got the Margarita mix/glasses/salt for the glasses and tortilla chips package. It was so cute! Too bad by the time we won we (Dave too) were completely intoxicated and decided that throwing it (glass bottle and margarita glasses) in Dave's trunk was a good idea. Dave sold his car shortly thereafter.

The event came to an end but we were just getting started. After packing (throwing) our auction items in Dave's trunk we met up with more friends to continue the merriment of the evening. And by merriment I mean more of Jerry's performance. He was, after all, the popular one that night.

As for returning the following year - sadly, 2005 marked the last year they held this event - I guess we just made too much of an impression!

Never a dull evening with the 3 of us . . .

Update to my broken Dog - scroll down and read Dave Broke my dog first . . .

Tonight Dave came over to cook dinner for my friend Jerry and I and Daisy nearly knocked Dave over with the jumping and licking. (So maybe she’s not broke after all.) Dinner, however, was scrumptious. (Even though you yelled at me about everything I bought or had in MY kitchen.)

We had Chicken and Arugula Sandwiches from the Giant Eagle.com recipe collection. I was in charge of the ingredients and Dave would be all Rachael-Dave for the evening. So, I shopped at lunch and got the ingredients and for those of you that know me, I HATE TO GROCERY SHOP so I do it as quickly as possible. And of course, I didn’t do it to Dave’s liking.

First off, if you do make this recipe - (and you should because it's quite tasty)

http://www.gianteagle.com/Recipes/RecipeDetails.aspx?recipeId=279&N=0&sid=11ABBCF47972

– it calls for 1 Tablespoon of Honey and I want everyone out there to know that Honey costs $5 for that STUPID BEAR shaped jar! $5 FREAKING DOLLARS – what am I ever going to use Honey for again?? So, I’m going to give you a tip that my BFF gave me AFTER we had dinner. Go to Starbucks and ask for a couple of packages – unless you feel you’ll have a need for Honey in future – which I’m pretty sure I won’t. You can also go to KFC and do the same. (Dave and I thought of this one - umm.. hello? Biscuits anyone?)

So I get the ingredients and when Dave gets to my house he immediately mocks my shopping – because instead of horseradish sauce, (doesn’t it look like hoser radish? – anyway ...) I got some sort of creamy horseradish thing in a squirt bottle. I swear, it was the only HORSERADISH sauce I saw. (According to Dave, and his almighty grocery shopping knowledge, NO. There are 100’s of different kinds to choose from.) I of course argued and lost round 1.

Round 2: Bread – Recipe calls for: 4 Slice Giant Eagle sunflower seed bread, lightly toasted. Now last night, Dave told me to get the same type of bread we had for dinner last week when he cooked (yes you did because that’s why I bought what I bought). I went to the bakery section of the store and bought some sort of Mediterranean bread loaf that just looked and smelled YUMMY and didn’t even think about slicing it up for sandwiches. I’ll say it again: I WAS IN CHARGE OF INGREDIENTS, NOT PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER. Jill loses round 2.

Round 3: Side Dish(es) Dave tells me that after foraging through my fridge/freezer last week that I have enough frozen vegetables to feed a small army so he’ll defrost and season to every one’s liking. I decide that potato chips sound like the perfect side dish to a sandwich and pick up a bag of Wavy Lays. (What? Potato’s are a vegetable.) Fast forward. I’m upstairs cleaning my room waiting for my dinner and hear Dave scream for me to “come and look at this” and am forced to view several bricks of ice and corn, ice and peas/carrots combo, ice and a medley of veggies. (I really did have enough to feed an army - or, build my very own igloo.) Round 3 looks to be a wash because of my back up plan – MY wavy vegetables and, I included fruit to our dinner. It’s officially Summer (or at least it feels that way) in Ohio and that usually means that fresh fruit is served with dinner. Luckily I had this planned out – I had a very ripe Orange to go with the Blue Moon Beer!

Victory! Victory! I’m number one! You can’t have sandwiches without the beer! And Oranges are a necessary ingredient when drinking a Blue Moon.

So there I sit, enjoying dinner and I can’t help but think that Dave somewhat resembles my dad; making me look at everything I’ve done wrong. Seriously, who does this? No wonder I have self esteem issues. Tell me what I’ve done RIGHT (make up shit if you have to). He also makes fun of how much food I have in my house that is WAY past its expiration date. Honestly, no wonder I’m broke, I buy all this food and I don’t even like to cook – so it just sits in my fridge/freezer or shelf and collects dust or congeals to a gel-like consistency. (Last week’s dinner? I was POSITIVE I had red wine vinegar or something that we (Dave) needed for the recipe. Anyway, I DID have it but, as Dave pointed out - by making me look at it – again, why? - it was like a big glob of red-wine goo.) So I like to buy stuff – that’s another story altogether. Total score: Dave is a great cook and I AM a great shopper. I also decide that Dave would be both a good dad and an awful dad all at once. Good thing we never had kids . .. (Dear God – imagine if?)

Then, just as quickly as he came and prepared dinner, he was off and out the door. Jerry came over later and we of course gossiped and laughed about everyone and anyone we could think of. Later - I got to clean up, but that was the best part - I’m a sick freak who actually LOVES to clean up. It’s the only time I can see all the stuff I’ve bought for my kitchen.

California Dreaming . . .

So, week two in California was a busy one. We (my District Manager and Store manager) had three solid days of interviewing candidates for a new store that will open in the fall in Chino Hills. This part of my job never gets old (well, maybe at the end of the day) because people will tell you the craziest things in an interview (or anywhere for that matter.) Don’t believe me? Next time you’re talking to a complete stranger, on the bus, a plane, at the mall – wherever, just start talking to them and out of no where ask them something personal and see what happens. I get to experience this every week. I don’t know if it’s me or if it’s really true that people will tell you just about anything, but I get so many crazy answers and stories to my interview questions that I am seriously thinking about writing a book. (hmmmm…. I think I have an idea for another blog!)

So since I’m all the way out in California for three days of work, I decided to stay the weekend and take in the sights (beaches) of sunny California. Well, first off, it was UNSEASONABLY warm that week. I’m talking three digit temps. I think the last day I was there it was an ungodly 113 degrees! I had sweat in places I didn’t think could sweat. Very pretty sight I might add, too.

Staying the extra couple of days sounded like a good idea when I booked the trip like 2-3 weeks prior. After being in L.A. the first week and then another right after, (and being homesick) those extra days sounded more like boot camp than vacation to me. I was really looking forward to hitting the beach – but since it was so hot I didn’t feel like lugging myself and all my beach necessities to and from the car. This is when boyfriends come in handy, they carry stuff and feel all manly and I can act girly as I walk in my cute new bathing suit, cover up and flipity – flops and find the perfect spot in the sand. It’s a win-win really. But, with no man at hand, that idea was shot to hell.

I was discussing this point with Dave, when he tells me that he can’t believe I haven’t “hooked-up” with men while I’m on the road. I’m in a different city/hotel every week – why haven’t I done this? His tone is serious and I’m like, “haven’t you watched Law and Order SVU ever? Um, hello. . . . people DIE ALONE in HOTEL ROOMS with NO ONE BACK HOME knowing what happened to them!” Ok, so maybe I watch a little too much CSI, Law and Order, The First 48 and Cold Case Files, but still – it happens – all of those shows, while fictional, are BASED on ACTUAL events. (It says so in the credits.)

Anyway, he somehow convinces me to go on Craigslist.com and see if anyone is looking for a hook-up in the OC. But, my computer’s firewall prevents me from checking Craigslist out, so we decide on Match.com. Now, Dave is at my house on my computer and logged in as me and I’m in CA on my work computer and logged in as well and we’re both looking for a man for me that I can go on a date with. Is Dave not the greatest man on this earth or what? (and you cook – yes, you rock right now Dave). So, we begin our search and I narrow it down to those who are on line at that moment. I’m only going to be in L.A. for the weekend, I need to act quickly. So I find a couple and start off with a wink and then email. I can’t believe how easy it was and how quickly I got over my anxiety about this whole thing. Dave and I finish chatting for the evening, since it’s late in Ohio and we’re about to say our goodbye’s and just as I hang up, I got an instant message from Bachelor number one.

It's 2am in Ohio and I need to get my beauty sleep. Stay tuned . . .

MEN . . . CAN'T LIVE WITH(OUT) 'EM . . . .

So that first week in California I got an email for a date from a former boyfriend, or whatever he called himself. I prefer to think of him as the guy who works for the CIA. You know the type, he's all over me for like 2 months making plans for all kinds of things like going boating or bike riding or what-the-fuck-ever is on him mind at that moment, and talking about vacations we should take. Then, just as soon as I feel comfortable knowing that he's there by my side, WHAM! He's been re-assigned to someone else's life and I'm left defenseless against my own insecurities.

Well, after listening to Dave and my friend Jerry’s' advice I emailed said man back and accepted his offer for a date a week ago. (Who am I kidding? I would have called him anyway - shut up, you've all been there.) So, we chat a bit and make the plan for our hook-up (I mean date) and it's like we haven't missed a beat. I mean it's only been a year or so but hey, who's counting? (Not me anyway)

We head downtown to have dinner/drinks, drinks and more drinks. If I'm going to pick up where we left off - I'm going to need a boat-load of drinks, and of course food - lots of food (that I won't eat because he ALWAYS talks about dieting when we go out to eat (WTF????) Fine, if I can't eat like I want to, I'll spend your money on food that will just sit there and then I'll just drink/drunk on your tab. Dear God and Baby Jesus, why oh why do I like this man?? We start with small talk to catch up. How’s so and so and so and so. What’s new with them? What have you been up to since the last time I saw you (ripping my beating heart from my chest?) You know, light conversation over food and (haunted) spirits.

He then switches the conversation to my travels. Am I still traveling a lot? Where have I been so far this year? And then, then he asks me if I've ever been to San Diego . He knows I have, and I tell him so and when I ask why he asks, and get this, he says that he was just there this past February. I let it go for a minute - he travels for his job too, but has never traveled West before. We start talking about downtown SD and the Gas Lamp District and how much fun it is, yada yada yada, but he only had one night there because his CRUISE left port the next day. (SCREEEEEECCCCCHHHHHH goes the record/music in my head) "What?? You went on a CRUISE?" I ask (scream). "With whom? - Cunt face? (Name has been changed on her behalf).

That FUCKING bitch went on my GODDAMN cruise!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just looked at him and smiled (while I tried to stop the screaming inside my head) and simply said, "We need more drinks." Inside I was seething and what I really wanted to do was punch him in the balls, but I decided I'd hit him where it would hurt him more and make me feel a whole lot better; his wallet. I then told the bartender that I was feeling adventurous and to make me anything "tropical" and with an umbrella. You know the kind; the put-every-kind-of-alcohol-in-the-drink-to-make-it-more-expensive (since it's on him and oh yeah, give yourself a big fat tip.) So I ordered 2 or 10 drinks like this (shots too) to help me forget that I didn't go on a cruise this past February (it didn't work) but it did make me forget about kicking his head in. We sat there for a few more hours, drinking enough to cover the cost of another cruise, and started talking about past Jimmy Buffet concerts (his hand on my knee) and being on the boat up at the lake (his hand on my thigh) with his friends and maybe (hand moving all over) we'll go again this summer. Yada yada yada - here we go again. . . . I hate him, I really do - but I like making out and yada yada yada-ing more. (Whatev - all bets are off when you’re drunk.)

BTW - Cunt-face is out of the picture (of course she is - she got MY cruise and then ditched the rat bastard)

I'm back and Dave Broke my Dog

I'm back. Back home, back at work and back to my blog. A lot has happened since my last true blog. As you know, I was in California for two weeks for work and Dave was watching my Daisy Dog and my house. That first week Daisy killed a squirrel, Dave realized that dogs do have feelings and I got an email from a past boyfriend. (see past blogs) Anyway – it seems that my writer’s block is gone and all it took was to get me back to my office and what do you know, I can write again. Why can’t I write when I’m at home? I don’t know but I’m going with it. I’ll call it my smoke break. So here goes . . .

WEEK TWO:

DAVE BROKE MY DOG.
Daisy now loves to be outside for hours on end and, to my dismay, LOVES to lie in the dirt. Dave thinks this is HILARIOUS; however, I (and my white comforter on my bed) do not. "She loves to be outside" he says. I found this out when I returned home this past Sunday and she didn't want to take an 8 hour nap with me. What? I took the red-eye home and I was dog tired. (No pun intended) AND, I was still on CA time so it was like only a 5 hour nap. Anyway, my point is - she didn't want to lie on the bed and have me snuggle with her like a teddy bear - she wanted to be OUTSIDE - in the dirt!!!

"What did you do to my dog?" I wailed to Dave on the phone later that night. "She wants out constantly and stays out all day!"

"That's what dogs do," he replied dryly.

That's not what she did before I left YOU in charge - I thought to myself.

"I want her in the house with me, licking, kissing, and jumping on me in an “I’m oh-so-happy-that-you’re-home – kind of way."

And so began the conversation of how I'm the problem with my dog and that she should NOT be licking (never going to happen by the way) or jumping on anyone and all of his work will go to waste because mommy's home. I'm not consistent with my training and blah, blah, blah, blah, b-l-a-h!

I know this - Before I left for California, I had the happiest 'I-love-my-mom-so-much-that-I-just-can't-stop-licking-you' dog and now that I'm back, I have a dog that wants to do her own thing outside, in the dirt no less, without me telling her how much I missed her and love her. I now have the equivalent of a man living with me. WTF?

I've got writers block . . . .

Or is it possible that this was just another "hobby" of mine, like photograhy and scrapbooking? Shut up Dave - I WILL scrapbook something someday and I may still buy more scrapbooking supplies! (And if you even try to sell or get rid of one little scrap book sticker or die cut while I'm in LA next week - you will die)

I have tried and tried to write "Part Deux" of "Me and my friend Dave" and I just can't get it started. Anyone else out there have this kind of block when it comes to blogging?? Should I go out and get more wine??

I've got lots of stuff to write -but just can't get it from my big 'ol head to this blog . . .

Man oh Man . . .

You want me, you don't want me. When I want you, you're 'seeing someone new' and "just don't want to go back down that road again."

Oh yeah? What ROAD is that? The one where you see me for a few months, talk about vacations and trips we'll never take? Then, just as I regain my self confidence and start to enjoy our time together, you disappear for God knows how long and I'm left to recover again.

I FINALLY got you out of my system AND my cell phone (no more drunken dialing for me) and what happens? I get an email from you and it starts it all over again. . .

I hate you.

That's why I deleted your email and blocked you from sending any others.